I went to Marks and Spencer for yet another bra fitting today. Out of all the bits of my body radically transformed by this epic lard busting journey, it’s the boobs that have changed the most. I started with a 50 inch under-bust measurement and now it’s a 32 or 34 in whatever cup size the boobs happen to FEEL like fitting into on a particular day. I swear I just get the scaffolding right then POW! They’ve shrunk some more. Could you please just STAY WHERE YOU ARE, ladies?
I had a very nice Bra Lady today, short and round with enormous boobs that I kept brushing by accident as she helped me into the various garments. She was very patient and kind as I told her I’d lost some more weight and needed yet another new bra. She made me try on FIFTEEN BRAS, people. I never knew there were so many kinds. But she was determined to wrestle the ladies into submission, even though I knew the very first one was going to be the best one.
She kept scurrying back and forth to fetch more bras so I took advantage of being alone with 360-degree full length mirrors. I like just having a good long look at myself. I did a lot of flexing and posing and sucking in my stomach and doing tricep kickbacks so I could see the muscle pop out. And you know what I thought? I likes what I see. I felt proud. I felt strong. I felt foxy. I had never felt so content to be occupying this body of mine. Dare I say I felt… totally done.
Anyway finally Bra Lady agreed with me that the first bra was the best. Then she asked me just how much weight I’d lost and I said "12 and a half stone". So she said "OH MY GOD 12 and a half STONE!?" and I said yes and explained that this was about my 75th bra fitting in the past 6.5 years and she said all sorts of nice things. I thanked her as she handed me the Chosen Bra and guess what she said?
"That should see you through the next couple of stone!"
As I walked away I snorted with laughter but it wasn’t until I got to the checkout that I thought, HEY! The next couple of stone!? Does she think I still need to lose 2 stone? 28 pounds? 13 kilograms?
All the satisfaction and bravado I’ve been feeling for MONTHS just sort of wilted right there and the ye olde self-doubt rushed in. Do I still need to lose two more stone? Am I hideous? Have I been deluding myself? Are the exercise endorphins giving me false happiness? Am I just settling? Should I not be satisfied with a size 14? Are all these people who say "you look great" really saying "I mean, compared to BEFORE!" Is it wrong for me to think this body is just fine and dandy as it is right now?
I walked into about six different shops and looked at myself, in as many different angles and lighting as possible. I checked in shop windows and car windows and the public loos as well. Just to make sure I really was satisfied.
I came home and told Gareth all about it. I didn’t punch him on the arm, for I wasn’t angry, just bemused and a little wounded. It reminded me again that when it comes to lard busting you have to make sure you’re impressing yourself. You’ll never have a body that everyone in the world wide world is going to be in love with.
And it’s funny how no matter cool and confident you think you’ve become, there’s still a few wee chinks in your armour.